


Tallow

by lwise2019



Series: Mikkel's Story [12]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwise2019/pseuds/lwise2019
Summary: Mikkel realises what he's going to have to cook.
Series: Mikkel's Story [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536739
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Tallow

The situation in the radio room was no better than before. Cringing between a furious Sigrun and the radio itself, Tuuri was holding her ears while Sigrun shouted, "Nono no! NO!!! I refuse to keep him! The last thing we need is a useless _pet!_ "

Mikkel nudged her gently aside and tapped Tuuri on the shoulder, gesturing for her to come along as the radio sputtered, "I'm _sorry!_ There's nothing else we can do now!"

"Tuuri, his name is Reynir," he said over the continued sputtering of the radio. "I think he speaks nothing but Icelandic, so I'm going to rely on you to help me deal with him." Tuuri perked up a bit at the thought of being useful. "I think he comes from somewhere in the interior of Iceland and has led a very sheltered life, so there's a lot you can tell him about the world." There, that made her feel better, and had the advantage of being entirely true. "He's not immune so he'll need to use your spare mask whenever he leaves the tank, I suppose, so you both need to be very careful with the masks. Before you deal with him, though, your cousin is very upset, maybe even frightened —"

"Oh no! He would be! A stranger, and Sigrun shouting ... I'll talk to him. I'll tell him to go out scouting. That'll make him feel better ... uh, what should he scout for?"

"Ask him to look for a camping place closer to some of the promising spots. We've lost a whole day and Sigrun will want to get back to work." Not that it mattered. They were clearly stuck here much longer than the original plan, and there was plenty of time to do any scavenging — if they didn't starve to death first. Still, the busier they were, the less they'd be thinking about their situation. "And — Tuuri, does Lalli know how to set a snare?"

"A ... snare? Oh! A snare! Sure! He and Grandma — uh — yes, he can set a snare."

"Good. Ask him to set a snare or two out near the campsite. Maybe he can get a rabbit." Or a squirrel. Or even a rat. Mikkel wasn't particular at this point.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been any wildlife here in the city when the Rash struck, and whatever had been in the surrounding fields and woods had been hit hard by the Rash. After that, well, grosslings didn't _need_ to eat, so far as anyone had been able to tell, for they could sit for years in a kind of stasis if no food were available, but they _wanted_ to eat, and the immune survivors and their descendants would have been under constant threat from grosslings. Thus, they wouldn't have increased their numbers, or migrated into the city, as much as one might have hoped in ninety years.

Mikkel was actually a little unhappy at having to reduce the surviving wildlife population further, but when the alternative was starvation for himself and his teammates ...

"I'll tell him! That's a great idea!" And she darted off to the sleeping quarters while Mikkel went back to their storage area and picked up a candle, carefully peeled back the wrapper, and scraped off a bit to taste.

Tallow. Mutton tallow, he thought. Edible. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't, but he was going to have to cook the things. They would keep the team alive, but no one was going to like it and, as designated cook, he'd take the blame. He sighed and sat on the floor for a few minutes, listening to the end of Sigrun's conversation with the radio.

"Maybe find a way to make him useful," he heard faintly.

"Yes! He will make an _excellent_ troll decoy," Sigrun snarled.

"What? No, _what?_ No! _Please_ don't do that! Just ... just ... keep him alive. _Please._ "

* * *

Lalli returned an hour or so later, gave instructions to Tuuri, and stumbled back to their sleeping quarters, crawling under Mikkel's bunk and immediately falling asleep. Watching, Mikkel saw Reynir's nose wrinkle as Lalli passed, and was suddenly conscious of the fact that only Sigrun and Emil had bathed in the past few days and that all of them except Tuuri had been doing hard physical labor. They were all grimy and they all smelled to varying degrees, Lalli most of all. The saying that "Cleanliness is next to godliness" had been long lost since the Rash, but the sentiment remained. As Tuuri put the tank in motion, he approached Sigrun.

"Sigrun, we need to get everyone washed up."

"Huh? We'll wash our hands before eating."

"No, I mean our whole bodies. We're _dirty._ "

"Mikkel, do you know how cold that stream was?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry about that, but you really needed running water to get all that grossling slime off of you. We don't have to do that now. The tank has a water heater. We can pump water in, heat it, and have a reasonable amount of hot water for each person."

Sigrun's expression went a little distant. "Back home we had a sauna, and we'd get completely clean and purified after every trollhunt ..." Captain Sigrun was back immediately. "Good idea. It'll take fuel, though, and you'll have to chop more. I don't want you chopping wood in the evening and maybe attracting grosslings in the night. We'll bathe in the morning. Before dawn, even. The days are getting short and I don't want to lose daylight."

* * *

Lalli had chosen a good campsite with a stream nearby and plenty of fallen branches. The immunes immediately set to work at their assigned tasks: Lalli collected firewood, Emil dug a latrine in a spot sheltered from view, Mikkel gathered stones to place around his campfire, and Sigrun prowled around, on guard.

As usual, Mikkel had difficulty getting the fire started. Not wanting to waste their limited supply of matches, he called, "Emil! Light this thing!"

The Cleanser was, indeed, a wizard with fire. One match, and first the tinder then the smaller branches burned merrily. He sat back on his heels, face blank, staring into the fire until Mikkel, a little unnerved, nudged him. "Go help Lalli with the firewood. We can't chop any right now, but the more you can gather now, the less work there'll be in the morning. In the _dark._ "

As Emil dashed away, Mikkel chopped up two candles and hastily dropped them in the pot. Best if no one else saw that. Chopped vegetables followed and he sighed at the absence of any form of seasoning. Worse, the snares had been empty (not surprisingly), so he was not looking forward to the complaints when the team tried his soup.

The soup had just started to bubble when Lalli appeared beside him and dropped a dead rabbit in his lap. "Thank you!" Mikkel exclaimed in unfeigned delight.

"Okay," Lalli answered.

Mikkel blinked. He'd heard those syllables in some of Lalli's discussions with Tuuri, but he'd assumed that was a coincidence of sounds. Lalli actually knew the word? "Okay!" Mikkel answered enthusiastically, and Lalli looked directly at him for probably the first time, lips curling just a little in something almost like a smile ...

"Lalli!" Tuuri called, and the scout spun away and dashed to her side. Obviously Sigrun was giving instructions for the night's scouting.

Mikkel found himself smiling as he skinned, cleaned, and butchered the rabbit. The meat went into the pot, and in fact no one complained about the rabbit stew.


End file.
